


Hail Santa

by pumpkin_patch



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Hail Santa, Satanism, The Striders are broke again, crackfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 09:28:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,415
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6950680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pumpkin_patch/pseuds/pumpkin_patch
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave comes home and finds Bro doing some weird satanic ritual. They decide to make this shit happen, but the outcome of it, however, is nothing either of them would have expected! </p><p>–––</p><p>A one-shot (kinda crack) inspired by a friend of mine who came up with this glorious idea :P</p><p>Enjoy!</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hail Santa

It is a hot and muggy day in Texas, the hellfire of the sun burns down onto the asphalt in attempt to melt it and it is so humid one would think the air is drinkable. 

Dave groans as he adjusts his backpack, it’s weight causing him to walk bent over, the leather strap cutting into his shoulder. With heavy steps, he reluctantly shuffles up the nearly endless staircase, pulling himself up the handrail like his life depended on it. 

„Fuck this weather.“ The blonde teen mutters under his breath, annoyed to no end, when he feels an other bead of sweat trickling down the back of his neck. „I swear, if that weak excuse of a brother has *forgotten* to turn on the Ac again, I am gonna shove my bluntest and rustiest shitty sword so far up his ass he will actually have to admit it hurts. Cry his pretty kawaii princess tears all over the floor while I watch Green Lantern at full volume.“

Finally arriving at the top, he kicks the door open and stumbles into the apartment, almost face planting to the floor with exhaustion. „The winner takes it all~“ He mutters, flinging his backpack to the ground dramatically and kicking off his shoes. 

„Bro? I’m back, you ungrateful bastard!“ He yells into the apartment as he makes his way to the kitchen to grab some AJ before he would retreat into his room. A man needs his AJ from time to time, problem? Nope, everybody adores Dave’s apple juice weakness and he knows it.

No answer. Huh. 

It’s not like Bro would ever answer, but there would always be a faint squeak of a Smuppet to be heard somewhere or Cal would randomly appear in his view and scare the piss out of him, signalizing the elder brother was in the house, which he, let’s face it, always is. 

Deciding not to bother with thinking about the creep, he takes a long, pleasurable sip from the Aj bottle, ironically closing his eyes and letting out a half moan to underline his indulgence and relief to finally experience the soothing and relaxing feeling of the cold sugary juice, when suddenly, there is shuffling and a muffled crash coming out of Bro’s room. 

What the actual– Oh my god. Burglars? Assassins? Creepy clowns? Nicolas Cage? Shit.

Dave chokes on his apple juice, leaving him coughing and wheezing like an imbecile. He stops pretty soon though when the sound disappears as quickly as it came. 

Nope. Nope. Nope.

Time to go into ninja-mode. Beware of the Teenage-mutant-ninja-human Dave, everyone. No one messes with the red masked leader, the master of shitty swords and flashstepping. Feel his rage, motherfuckers.

He tiptoes to the fridge and carefully opens the door an inch, and hell yes, exactly one sword falls out directly into his hand. And it is not even rusty. Dang son, you got talent. Dave takes his time to do a full fledged A+ Freddie Mercury pose before he peeks into the hallway, only wisp of pale blonde hair and shades protruding from the cheaply painted white wall.

No one there. Alright. Prepare yourself, Dave, it’s all or nothing, life or death, Doritos or Cheez-its. 

He darts forward, using his fluffy red socks to slide across the linoleum floor like a dope ass penguin. With one fluid motion, he presses down the doorknob with one leg (God bless him for being inflicted with the holy ability of unmanly stretchyness) and kicks it open, both of his hands tightening around the handle of his sword and holding it up in front of him like some Lord of the Rings douchebag.

With a fierce battle cry, he barrels into the room and his eyes widen when the sigh greeting him is nothing he expected. 

What. The. Ever. Living. Fuck. 

Bro’s room is only lit by the dim, flickering light of over two dozen candles dancing over the walls. That not being enough, they are arranged into a circle around a huge statue that seems to be a… huge, sparkly and kitschy santa? His brother himself is kneeling on the ground, a cereal bowl with dubious dark shimmering liquid in his hands. His left hand is smeared with the sticky substance, and it looks like he has drawn something with it onto the ground. 

„What are you doing, Bro.“ Dave says flatly, his hands dropping to his sides. „Is that… IS THAT A PENTAGRAM?“ He suddenly shouts when he recognizes several skulls and bones lying at the spots where the pentagram melts into the circle surrounding it.

„Problem?“ Bro just shrugs and continues drawing/painting/messing around like it was the most casual thing to do in such a situation. 

„Bro. You can’t just start some satanic bullshit ritual here, man. Stuff’s 133% not legal, I swear!“ Dave protests but crouches down next to the elder blonde who has started humming ‚It must have been Angels‘. 

„Chill, lil’ man, I got this. The Egderp Dad makes sure there are no cops around this district today. Don’t ask me what I had to do for that favor.“

Dave rolls his eyes and slides his shades off his face, resting them on top of his head. Shit’s too dark for shades, even a cool kid has to admit that from time to time.

„But dude, why. I mean, do you have a fuckin’ reason cause if you’re summonin' Satan for no damn reason and he’ll be all like ‚Imma burn this ratty apartment down cause you interrupted my beauty sleep‘ Imma be hella pissed. I ain’t sleeping under some Texas bridge with your My little Pony blanket huddled around me and I ain’t showering in local showers.“

„Just give me a reason, just a little bit’s enough~“ Bro sings in his best kawaii-K-pop-voice before answering the question. „Okay, lil’ guy, my puppet porn empire isn’t all rainbows and unicorns at the moment. But we gotta get our money together somehow, so I thought maybe I could summon some demon to make people like my new ‚flavored rumps collection‘. Ya know, business an’ stuff.“

„Seems legit.“ Dave shrugs and sits back onto his heels. „So how about the sacrificial offering. You gotta give the demon some offering or something? Little shits are vain as hell.“

„Yeah, it has to be a object with personal value. Probably to suck the love outta it or some shit. No big deal.“

„Pretty simple, actually.“ Dave muses and then it comes to him. „Bro, wait, man, don’t finish that circle, I have this great idea, I swear, it’s gonna be real good. Like, this evening, imma bring some people around with their stuff and we make that demon crazy strong and we’ll be rich. How does that sound?“

„Sure why not.“

„Sweet! You’re a saint, Bro. Pun intended.“

 

∆

 

In the evening around nine o’clock, when the hot air is starting to be blown away by a slightly chilly wind, a truck halts in the street where the Strider-apartment is located. 

Five teenagers around the age of sixteen/seventeen step out of it and are greeted by Dave who has pulled his hood mysteriously over his head and is acting like they would just perform a drug deal. 

„So what’s the big deal, asshole?“ Karkat barks, clearly unamused and grumpy like he always is. „Care telling us what all the fuss is about?“ 

„Calm your man buns, Shouty. There is some important and illegal shit going down here, I don’t want no shouters in the house, alright?“ Dave hushes him, patting his cheek. Karkat literally hisses but, thank god, keeps his trap shut.

„Did you all bring your possessions of personal value?“ He raises his pale eyebrow until they disappear beneath his hairline. 

„Yes, but Dave, why on earth–

„No questions. The streets are unsafe.“ Dave says low, cutting Kanaya off while leading the group into the staircase.

„Dave, if you don’t tell me I’m going home–

„Shut up, Egbuns, you’re like the only one who doesn't even have a license, you couldn’t go home even if you wanted to. Even Karkat managed to pass it after the third time.“ Dave snorts and playfully swats the back of his boyfriend’s head.

„Anyway, lets get down to business.“ He announces as they reach the door. „Don’t look at me like that, Jade, Rose, there is some serious shit going down tonight. So serious it would make the Harry Potter dude drop to his knees in shame because his name doesn’t have no meaning anymore. So, the facts are: Me and my bro are runnin’ low on cash, his Smuppets aren’t selling themselves, the homos apparently don’t want puppet noses up their asses anymore and we’re about to get broker than those two hopeless muffin girls on Netflix.“ 

„Get to the point.“ Wow. Jinx x5 combo.

„So, I caught Bro doing some crazy ass satanic ritual earlier this day, it’s gonna summon some demon and he will make the haters love the merchandise so we will make more money. They're gonna jump a it harder than the bargain hunters at Storage Wars. Got it?“

„Dave.“ Rose says flatly, her eyes narrowing and her expression scary. „Do you know how dangerou–

„Alright, everyone ready? Good. Let’s get this show on the road.“

They enter the apartment and walk into Bro’s room, one half gasping in anticipation, the other one rolling their eyes. Bro is sitting in the ground, dramatically pretending to meditate as the lights of the candles reflect in his shades. Dave has to admit the situation is kinda sending chills down his spine.

„What the hell. Dave! This is illegal!“ Jade gasps but kneels down with morbid fascination to inspect everything. 

„I’m impressed, Broderick. It takes a lot of talent and skill to perform a ritual with such precision.“ Rose nods approvingly and pats Bro on the shoulder.

„Why are we worshipping a chimney-asshole.“ Karkat joins the conversation, crossing his arms in front of his chest and eying the santa suspiciously.

„Dude, is it your goal for me to pull at the strings of my hood and yell ‚You don’t even go here?‘ Cause as much as I would love to, I ain’t doin’ that, no matter how great the movie was. Okay, everyone. Throw your stuff into the middle.“

The teens get out their items, sending them clattering to the ground. Black and purple colored wands, a limited edition of Con Air with signature, a sniper rifle, a sickle from Karkat and a motherfucking chainsaw with blood splatters still sticking to it by Kanaya. 

„Alright, Bro, draw the circle. We’re making this happen.“

Bro crosses himself, Dave mirroring his actions. The circle lights up in a faint red, a faint glow first, intensifying with every second, growing more and more powerful with each second. 

„Hail Santa.“ Bro chants and does a few cryptic hand signs that could also be ninja-jutsu, and the red ascends from the likes, detaching itself from the black liquid and swirling around the Santa sculpture, illuminating it in a dim and scary light. 

Suddenly, there is a flash and all the light retreats into the santa, causing it to glow from the inside like some MATT lightbulb. Wow. Dave gulps. Compared to the creepiness-level of this santa now, the clowns from Stitches ain’t shit.

„You know you love me~“ 

A faint voice sings, almost non audible, but the sound definitely came out of the santa, Dave swears it came out of the santa.

„Guys, did you hear that? Oh my god did you hear that. I’m really freaking out right now. Bro, tell me I didn’t hear that cause if you heard that we all goin’ down.“

„You know you caaare~“

When Dave looks up to Bro, the elder blonde’s features aren’t calm and controlled as usual, they reflect shock and fear; Holy crap, Bro is terrified to no end. Behind him, his friends gasp and Karkat swears, the weirdly echoing singing getting louder with every second.

„Just shout whenever, and I’ll be there~~~“

Oh fuck. Oh fuckohfuckohfuck. 

Out of the santa, in the middle of a huge cloud of white smoke, a figure ascends with it’s back to the group, floating up to the ceiling. It looks like a sprite, but Dave doesn’t really want to rely on his senses right now, as they probably are fucked with right now. He can hear Bro’s teeth grinding against each other next to him, and he is ashamed to admit he is actually sweating with horror right now. When it turns around, Dave loses it, and so does Bro. 

There is only so much a man can handle, and a Justin Bieber-demon/sprite/actual-self isn’t on the fucking grocery list.

„Alright, I’m so done with this shit, Let’s kill it, everyone! Grab your weapons and beat the shit outta that Justin Bieber demon.“ Bro announces and lets his trusty katana appear in his hand, skillfully fetching it out of his sylladex.

„But what if violence doesn’t have any affect on him? We could always do a human sacrifice. I would willingly give up John to do the trick.“ Dave offers and earns a slap from the raven haired boy.

„Bullshit, get out Caledfwlch, you will need it.“

The teens follow Bro’s lead, and with a deafening battle cry, the seven humans attack the sprite, swords slicing, chainsaws roaring, magic wands buzzing and hammers pounding. 

They beat the crap out of the JB-demon, cutting, burning and squashing it until it finally dissolves into smoke again, disappearing with a wail and a few lines of the worst song ever produced in history.

The group, panting and breathing heavily with rage and exhaustion, collectively plops to the ground, not willing to participate in any activity for the next few decades. 

„Bro?“ Dave asks into the silence, Caledfwlch disappearing into his hash map sylladex with a soft poof.

„Sup, still alive, man, no luck this time, lil’ man.“

„Please promise me you never try summon shit again, man, this literally kinda scarred me for life, man. I would really rather carry our broke asses from state to state in our non-existent trailer.“

„Same.“

„I will never be able to do any JB jokes again in my life.“ Dave groans, rolling over onto his side. „Man, that gives me about 30% less stuff to ramble about. Sucks.“

„As if that would bother anyone.“ Jade giggles from the corner and Dave snorts.

„Yeah, go to hell, Harley.“


End file.
